Everyday an old man would sit on a rusted iron bench at exactly 4:15 in the afternoon just beside our house. He would rest for a while immersing himself from the view of the playing kids and the lovers strolling hand in hand minding their lovely little world. He would remove his fisherman's hat and would scratch his balding head from time to time. I know this, since I've seen him repeat this routine for so many times now.
There's nothing unusual about it except for the part when the old man have already found a comfortable spot by the old broken bench. At this moment, an old lady, probably just a few years older that him, would sit on the other corner of the bench. She would take her time to find a nice comfy spot to lean on so she can take her knitting out.
By this time, the old man would become wary-looking and would throw silent glances at the woman who disturbed his silent sanctuary. The old lady would ignore this gesture and would resume her knitting as if she was doing it inside her home. This act would go on, until the old woman drop her left hand as if supporting her leaning body. The old man would obviously drop his cane, and by reaching it, he would place his palm against the old woman's hand. All of this would take place in just a few seconds.
Then upon retrieving his cane, the old man would stand up happily and would walk with limping satisfaction towards my spot. The old lady would stare at the leaving old man with a smiling face as well.
My grandfather would greet me in the widest smile you'll ever see as he gets inside our lawn. "I think you should get your grandmother now" he would say as he points towards the old lady by the bench. My grandmother would wave at me with the lovely face which some people say I acquired from her beautiful genes.
Everyday I would witness how my grandparents would repeat their lovely event of accidental meeting, how they became a lovely couple, and how they started a family right in front on where they get to first meet each other.
No comments:
Post a Comment